Beautiful Crime
by ghm
Summary: He gave her something she never knew she wanted. With her he was never alone. No matter how far they pulled, pushed and fought, they always ended up just arms lengths away. [K.M. H.M.]


A/N: I have a burning love for Klayley and have always wanted to write for them and when I came across this amazing fan video (linked below) by klayope on YouTube to the song Beautiful Crime by Tamer it inspired me to write this. I wanted to try something new, writing wise, for this. Please keep in mind that I have never written for these characters so if the characterization is off, forgive me! I don't really know what this is, and I actually think this turned out sounding kind of pretentious and "try-hardy"? (not a word but you get the point) but I'm going to post it anyways! This story follows the plot of the series **_loosely_** but it is not strict to canon. I hope that you enjoy, and if you do let me know in a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Originals or the song Beautiful Crime by Tamer. Also this most likely holds many spelling and grammar errors!

* * *

 _We fight every night for something  
When the sun sets we're both the same  
Half in the shadows  
Half burned in flames_

* * *

His named burned her throat when it came out of her mouth, but her tongue seemed to addicted to uttering it allowed. His touch cast flames on her skin and she found herself craving the feeling when cold satin sheets wrapped her body at night. He was alluring, terrifying, infuriating, and infatuating all at the same time and thinking of him was too complex. He was Pandora's box to her- something everyone knew of but no one dared peak inside, afraid of the connects it would spill.

She remembered chuckling to herself the first time she realized he gave new meaning to the term, _"the devil walks among us."_

His voice shook her soul and she swore that he made decisions solely to make her angry. He knew all her buttons, which ones were easy to access, which ones stuck from lack of use, and the ones that were so worn in you could barely press it at all, afraid it would break into pieces if anyone touched it again. He could turn her practically inside out with just a glance and she was still trying to pinpoint if she loathed or loved that feeling.

But at the end of the day when blood was in her hair and tears were in her eyes, his arms always seemed to find her waist. The man who's name struck fear in the heart of millions, the man's name you would only utter with a flashlight under your chin, the man who had killed more people then she cared to fathom, that very same man made her feel safe. _Safe_. A word she knew was never mentioned in the same sentence he was ever in.

The adopted misfit tomboy and the tainted bastard son of a werewolf raised by a barbaric Viking. They were outcasts from both of their beginnings. She often thought of the night they first fucked on his expensive mahogany table. Where just seconds before she had been admiring his masterpieces, dark, disturbing and beautiful. The words she drawled out at him as he starred at her with a lust filled gaze somehow held more meaning to their future than she could have imaged.

 _"I saw how twisted it really is… and maybe I can relate."_

She was no blonde-haired beauty queen or agreeable princess who groveled at his feet. No, the second he met her, he knew they would get along like fire and gasoline. Feeding and growing off the others destruction. He knew the second he killed the twelve innocent hybrids and when he found out she struck up with a deal with the diabolical Katerina that this little wolf was anything but a docile little girl.

 _"We are two sides of the same twisted coin,"_ He muttered to her as she redressed after their night of passion. His voice wasn't sweet like a lovers or harsh like an enemies, it sounded rehearsed like he had said it a million times, but just now started to mean it.

 _"This is not the end for you and I."_

She kept up her ridged façade of indifference towards the man who lay behind her that she wouldn't care if they ever met again. But somewhere inside her she knew that this was only the beginning of their story. She found herself wrapped together with him in his self-proclaimed family home more times than she could count over the span of weeks. His lips plastered to her neck, her nails etching a familiar path down his back, both of their strained breath mixing together in the dead of night. It was as if they had a pact to continue down this hole of open mouthed kisses and destruction as long as they both could bear it. What was happening between them wasn't romantic, it wasn't healthy, and they didn't pretend it was anything else other then what they both needed. Raw, painful, exhilarating, filthy nights spent when she would stumble to his porch smelling of wine with a smirk on her lips that showed him she was up to no good. They knew what it was. And they never uttered a single word of it to anyone because it was no one business but their own.

Little Wolf and the Hybrid, only the night knew how addicted the two had become to their secret. The day only saw them as everyone else did, two sharp tonged degenerates who couldn't stand the sight of the other person.

Time passed, life moved on, they parted ways; far to swept up in their own problems to care about the other. Though neither could deny that there seemed to be a looming itch that resided somewhere on them that they could never quite get rid of, always wanting more of something, but unsure of what.

But as life would have it, the Little Wolf now lived under his roof; in a new home, in a new city, in a new state. He was right when he said they would meet again, but neither of them thought it would be under these circumstances.

There was a constant weight in her stomach signaling that soon she would never be alone again, and she hated it. She hated that he had plated a flag into her, claiming her as his. She'd always been so adamant that no one owned her and that she was like the stars, always present, always beautiful but never close enough for anyone to touch, never close enough for anyone to keep. Being bound to someone else because of this supernatural fluke was terrifying to her. Being bound to him was nauseating, horrifying and electrifying. She didn't want him, she didn't care at this point if their baby wanted him, but she had to face the disheartening fact that she needed him.

Fleeting glances, fortuitous touches, and broken promises was all they shared these days. He watched her with malice and confusion as she seemed to be drawn to ever man but him these days. He continued to lie to himself that the sight of her sharing small smiles and tense eye contact with his own brother didn't bother him. But with her coming home wreaking of the king of the werewolves just to lead his elder brother around on a string of giggles and soft touches made a fire boil inside him.

 _She was his._

Even if she routinely seemed to forget this.

So he waited, sulking in the shadows as she grew his child but avoided him like she knew if she went near him she'd crumble. But they both knew that his name was written in blood on her soul and her's was craved into his tar black heart with a knife. Their wordless pack still remained, whether they liked it or not.

Time seemed to take days off his immortal life as the trials and tribulations of the city caught up with him. Family bounds continued to waver and break under the pressure of new information, new foes and old enemies. He was deteriorating at the seams as he fought so hard to take everything he was adamant he deserved. As he fought to be the rightful king of New Orleans, she simultaneously was handed the position as queen.

A position she hadn't wanted or thought she deserved but anyone could see that she embracing her title and was beginning to rule everything around her with an iron fist.

She was becoming a cunning and forceful leader for the werewolves and all that resided in the fourth quarter, and he watched her ruthless decisions and determination take effect.

Though, the King and Queen's reign was interrupted when it was time for their child to be born. An occasion usually greeted with a man in a white coat and some gushing loved ones in a sterile room. But the only gifts the King and Queen received for the birth of their child was a knife slicing the Queen's throat as her King watched in horror while he was being pinned to the wall by the flick of a little witch's wrist.

Blood cascaded over her body in a way he had seen many times, most of which were at his hand. He had never felt remorse, guilt or regret when he killed and if he did, the feeling was never strong enough to strike him deep. But watching her lay covered in a crimson coat of her own blood he felt _everything_. He felt every kill he had ever made tear into him. Every feeling and emotion he should have had came rushing over him. He felt utterly helpless and utterly human as he watched the women he held an intense adoration for killed in cold blood, and his new born child ripped from both of them. He felt the weight of the loss in his entire body. He released an agonizing scream, soon silenced by a mystical snap of his neck.

When he woke up her body lay unchanged, though the blood had started to dry on her skin. Staggering to his feet he walked to her corpse. He remembered noticing how her skin looked so pale, transparent and sickly. Her eyelashes lay softly against her cheeks, they were still wet from the tears that were in her eyes when she died. He felt his own tears begin to flood his eyes as they wandered to her stomach. His hand trembled as it made it's way hesitantly to place its weight on her now empty body. A sob wracked through him, and unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling to him. Enraged with sadness and anger, his emotions seemed to be drowning him. He gasped for air as he fisted the fabric of her dress in his hand. As his frame continued to quake he placed his forehead against hers, the blood covering her chest now soaking his shirt and his tears running tracks down her face. He soon slipped her his arms under her knees and behind her neck to gingerly picked up her body from the wood island in front the church. He felt his stomach lurch and churn as it registered to him just how limp her body felt.

Completely lifeless.

He slid down the wood of the island at a slow pace, his eyes still glued to her face. He moved with such small and gentle movements it was almost as if he was pretending she was only asleep in his arms and he didn't want to wake her. But the deafening sound of only his heartbeat echoing off the walls of the church kept reminding him that that was not the case.

He sat, resting her body against his knee, before pulling her close to his own. Staring at her, he felt anxious, like he was waiting for her to blink, or twitch or exhale. He knew this was the universes revenged for all the chaos he had caused in his long life time. It took what he had taken from far too many people- his hope, his humanity.

As tears still poured from his eyes, his hand found it's way to her stomach, absently mindedly rubbing small circles onto her clothed stomach with his thumb. He wanted to reach and touch her face, but he couldn't bear move, so he stayed still and just watched her with sad eyes.

And that's exactly how his brother found them.

…

When leaving her behind in the church, he had planned that it would be both a metaphorical leaving as well as a literal one. He couldn't have his mind riddled with thoughts of the girl he couldn't have saved. She had gotten involved with him and his family, and being tied to any of them was a curse with the promise of an inevitable death.

So when she had walked into the cemetery looking for him, his brother and her daughter, an angry look on her face and revenge on her mind he couldn't help but have all his emotions rush at him at once. They were now more the same in death as they were in life.

In the next couple of weeks they would resumed their place at the head on New Orleans, but this time the Queen ruled with a bloodlust and a little wolf cradled in her arms.

They were more feared then before, _she_ was more feared than before. The wolves, witches, and vampire all bowed to her now, all terrified to anger the hybrid with the intimidating resolve and a deadly punch. Crossing her or her family would result in the heart or head- and in some cases both- of the perpetrator being confiscated and disposed of. Word quickly spread of the stories of her new abilities and her consequences. No dared try and find out if they were true.

He watched upon her new life with a proud feeling in his chest and an arm slung across her shoulders. Werewolves crave a pack and with a vampires heighted emotions both now mixed in their DNA, creating a bond between the two that no other supernatural creature in the world could understand. They were the only ones of their kind, which only made them more unsettling to everyone around them.

She had never wanted this. Never wanted to be someone who needed to feed off of blood to live. But in her life she had learned to deal with all the cards she had been dealt with her head held high, and this would be no different. She would learn the downsides and destroy them with her power. She was determined to make the most out of her situation.

And she did.

She thrived in her new position in ways he hadn't even done yet even though he had been a hybrid much longer.

As they conquered and took back the city, they rarely left each other's side. The other men in her life before her transition melted away along with her mortality. No one seemed to like or agree with her decision to keep him in her constant company. His siblings and her old werewolf pack never failed to remind her how they detested her new form and new companion.

She continued to stand by him, going up against anyone if necessary.

They still fought like dogs and lashed out when tensions were running high. They were two alphas fighting for a dominance that would never be won. This was often a downfall of theirs… saying wicked things and pulling evil punches they would soon want to take back. But no one said that their entirety together would be an entirely civil one.

They were evenly matched, and evenly feared by all. Apart they were deadly, together they were unstoppable.

She often would tell people that being with him was the most difficult thing she had ever done. He would laugh at this statement and say:

 _"You're no picnic either, love…"_ And she would throw him a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

But it was true.

They were no picnic. They were no romantic affair with love letters, boxes of chocolates and bouquet of roses brought home every Sunday. They weren't a couple full of giggles and sweet nothings. They weren't security and faith. They were blood stained palms and adrenaline. They were venom and tears. They were clenched teeth and the smell of burning flesh. They were protective and fiercely loyal to the other. But most of all they were the same. Now there was no midnight secret that held them. They were the face of trepidation that everyone knew.

Now everyone knew them.

She never saw her life coming out this way. She thought eventually she would marry a nice man in the country. He would come home after work and kiss her cheek and ask her about her day and she would say it was fine even if it wasn't.

She was nothing like the girl she was when she wanted that. That girl had been immature, self-entitled and lost. She had nothing but wanted everything.

Now she was a leader, she was strong, she was guardian to her family. She now had everything and gained more every day.

She was reminded of this when standing in front of a pile of burning bodies. The fire snapped and billowed as it hit the air, eating up the gasoline that had been poured over the bodies just moments before. She stood watching the heat eat away at their enemies, feeling absolutely numb as smoke started to spread out over the city. She glanced beside her to where he stood. He held the same expression as her. Unmoved at the pile of discarded foes in front of them. His brother would be livid when he came home to find ashes of at least fifty vampires in the backyard. As the flames reflected against his skin, showing her all the different angles and crevasses of his face, she knew him well enough to know that he was already dreading the fight he would have with his brother.

Over these killings, over his temper, and eventually how he was tainting her immortal soul.

So she reached her hand out and laced her fingers into his calloused one. He glanced at her when he felt her touch, his face would have looked unmoving to someone who didn't know him as well as her. But she saw the small upturn on his lips. He gave her fingers a squeeze before slinging his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into the side of his body, their hands still clasped.

So they stood and watched the fire in a comfortable silence.

She continued to remember that girl she used to be, and the girl she was now. She thought of the selfless, do-gooding person people around her still wanted her to be.

But at the end of the day she wasn't always noble, she wasn't always the queen the city deserved to have. She was tainted with a temper and refused to hide this fact any longer. He seemed to be more and more right about her in the passing weeks after her transition when he told her that he was the only one who saw her for everything she was, for who she is and for who she could be.

She thought of the easy life with a nine to five job and a marriage at twenty nine and two children by thirty one. The easy route she could have taken.

But she didn't want easy- even if she knew it was something that she knew she should crave. She didn't want simple- something she knew she probably needed. So in the end of the day she settled for neither.

Because simple, easy, and classic just weren't words you would use to describe Hayley Marshall and Klaus Mikaelson.

* * *

 _We can't look back for nothing  
Take what you need, say your goodbyes  
I gave you everything  
And it's a beautiful crime_

* * *

A/N: I'm ridiculously nervous about posting this. But I think I like it! I hope you all receive this well and like it too. Remember that this is a new writing style I've never tried before and characters and a ship I've never written for before. If you enjoyed please leave a review, they really make my day and encourage me! I also wanted to say that this isn't written strictly based on the fan video, it simply inspired this story. If you found me from my Kolvina stories and are wanting another one I can tell you I have one in the works! It's a multi-chaptered AU that I'm really excited about but it's going to take me some time to get it all perfect and written. And shameless self-promo time, I have two other Kolvina stories on here if you want to check those out and if you want you can follow me on tumblr marshallshybrid. Don't forget to check out the great video by klayope here watch?v=vzsrE7CBgvw&t=10s


End file.
